


A Tale of Love and Vengeance

by Lunasirnape257



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Divergence, Dark Will, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Manipulative Will, Oral sex in someone's car, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasirnape257/pseuds/Lunasirnape257
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After several months in the Baltimore State Hospital, many things have changed for Will. His biggest wish at the moment is take revenge on Hannibal and he can do anything to get it. However, revenge is a path full of twists and turns: those who start it in a point could end it in another totally different. How many steps separate vengeance from love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Un Cuento de Amor y Venganza](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945333) by [Lunasirnape257](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasirnape257/pseuds/Lunasirnape257). 



> The characters that appear in this story - except those who have never appeared on the tv show or in the novels/films relating to the character of Hannibal Lecter and, therefore, are entirely my invention and property to the development of the plot – don't belong to me. Its creation and rights are owned by Thomas Harris, Bryan Fuller, the NBC Channel and the DeLaurentis company.

In the master bedroom there was only one large window, which opened directly into the ocean.

The night was cold outside, so Will watched the sea across the closed window. He could hear from afar the sound of the waves crashing at the foot of the cliff. His blue eyes were lost in the dark deep waters of the Atlantic, without seeing them despite they covering the horizon as far as the eye could see.

His brain was occupied with other thoughts.

The day was over. The Great Escape - as he were baptized the escape operation in his mind - had been a success. Hannibal and he rested comfortably and safe in the house that the psychiatrist had on the Atlantic coast, where in the past the good doctor had hidden Abigail and Miriam Lass for months, while the world believed them dead. Tomorrow morning, Chiyoh would take them to a nearby airstrip and there the three of them going to fly home. They would leave everything behind forever and would start a new life in Europe.

By inertia, Will took another sip of his whiskey and leave the glass aside, as he heard his partner entering the room. He recognized the cadence of his steps, his soft smell of cologne and aftershave: Abigail had helped him to train his senses during the months preceding to the Great Escape, while they lived together in Lecter's Castle in Lithuania. Then he thought it was a fun pastime, a form of entertainment, but eventually he had understood its usefulness and had learned to enjoy its benefits.

He turned around. Hannibal was standing in the middle of the room, his brown eyes fixed on him as if they couldn't look at anything else. The doctor wore an elegant dark silk dressing gown matching with his pajama pants. Will glimpsed a piece of his bare chest and knew the psychiatrist was wearing nothing more... he didn't need it, either.

Will approached him slowly, letting the doctor's eyes recreated in his semi-naked body. He wore only his pajama pants and nothing else. He reached Hannibal and lifted his head to look him into the eyes. He recognized the desire that made his look darker, with a fascinating reddish tint. He wanted to kiss him right there but Hannibal accidentally broke the magic to talk:

'Are you ready?' he asked, looking at him with a composure that both knew was product of a cold nature and many years working in his self-control. However, it could not prevent Will for almost feeling the fast heartbeat of his partner. He could smell the excitement and the nervousness on the doctor's skin, just as he could see them in his eyes and appreciate them in the way Hannibal's lips parted expectantly.

'I am.' Will replied, grabbing hands and lacing his fingers with the doctor's.

Hannibal leaned for their mouths met. He kissed him passionately and tenderly, as something worshiped is kissed. Will let out a groan, while he parted his lips to let in the psychiatrist's tongue and pressed his hands in his harder... oddly in the same way that he had done several months ago, that night in the porch of his house in Virginia.

The night everything began to change.

 

 

 

 

Honestly, changes actually began after he was jailed. The wheel set itself in motion the day he was facing the Chesapeake Ripper, watching him satisfied from the other side of the bars of his cell in the psychiatric hospital in Baltimore.

' _Hello, Will.'_

 _'Hello, Dr. Lecter._ '

At that time he felt the willing to take his hands through the bars to strangle him. He hated him for what he had done to him, for his lies and his betrayal. Although a part of him couldn't help but admire his diabolical intelligence, the way he had played and fooled everyone for months. He had used them at his will, like puppets.

Back then, he looked at the monster who smiled him and swore to himself he would kill him. Whatever happened, he was going to go out of there and got his revenge.

He had his chance in a cold morning, the day he was released: the Ripper was tired of having him locked up and had prepared Miriam Lass' testimony to exonerate him. The authorities were left with no choice but to accept his innocence and put and end to his captivity.

The first thing he saw when he crossed the threshold of the hospital was Jack Crawford waiting for him in the parking lot.

'Hi.' greeted him the head of unit, with a tense gesture when he came to him.

'Hello.'

'I thought you could need someone to take you home.'

'Thank you.'

He said nothing more. He simply went around his boss' car and occupy the passenger seat, leaving in his lap the plastic bag given to him in the hospital, which containing his belongings. Jack entered the vehicle seconds later, he adjusted his seat belt and they left for Virginia wordlessly.

'Have you thought of something,' asked Jack at a point of the trip, 'other than to kill Hannibal Lecter, I mean?'

Will just smiled and turned his head to look out the window. During those weeks he hadn't thought of anything but finished Hannibal. Especially since he knew he had killed Abigail, Beverly... and probably he'd end up doing the same with Alana, if they weren't careful.

'Being behind bars gives you time to think.' he said, enigmatically. He could feel Jack's eyes on him and turned to look at him. 'Don't worry, I have no intention of killing Hannibal Lecter. I'm just going to expose him and make him put in jail.'

'I hope so.' Jack huffed, looking back down the road. 'Do you have any plans for that?'

'I'm still meditating it. Come to my house on Sunday and we'll talk about it. We'll go ice fishing.'

'It sounds interesting.' he said. Then he looke at him for a moment and there was some contrition in his face. 'Will...'

'You don't have to apologize.' the younger looked away from him, indifferent. 'The Chesapeake Ripper is possibly the most intelligent and cunning murderer with whom you have met in your entire career... and it's been a long career, Jack. Don't feel bad for being decieved. Hannibal even decieved me, he decieved all of us.'

'Apparently, you saw the truth before anyone else. And you tried to warn us but none of us wanted to believe in your word.'

'The evidences against me were very strong. They even passed the laboratory tests.'

'Beverly...'

'I don't want to talk about her.' he interrumpted him. He didn't want to talk about something that shamed and filled him with rage for the wrongful death of his partner. If she hadn't ignored him when he warned her about not to go after Lecter. If he hadn't recruited her to try to prove his innocence, she would still be alive.

Hannibal had much to pay.

'Alana and Lecter... they are dating. Did you know it?'

'Hannibal himself came to tell me.' Jack gave him a glower. 'How is Miss Lass, anyway?'

He was perfectly aware of how his boss stiffen. He saw the grimace in his features and the strength which his hands clung to the wheel. He's just cut through the bullsh.

'She is traumatized.' Jack said, pursing his lips. 'That beast had her locked up for years. He cut her arm and left her at the bottom of a silo to die of thirst and hunger.'

'He didn't mean to kill her. If so, you would have never found her.'

'Why he allowed us to do it, then?' he barked angrily.

'Because Miriam Lass was the only one who could exonerate me, when he had armed so well the puzzle to condemn me for the crimes of the Copycat Killer. Matthew Brown's work had questioned my guilt but it wasn't enough, so the Ripper sought a resource that can convince everybody beyond doubt.'

'He wanted you out of the hospital? Why, if he put you there in the first place?'

'He likes to play. It's not funny, if you have none to do it with.'

Jack snorted, as he shook his head. Will stared through the window.

He was liying. He knew what was the reason Hannibal Lecter wanted him free and it wasn't just to play with him. That was actually the slightest of his motives. The real reason was he had never wanted him locked up: any plot he had devised for use him as a scapegoat for the Copycat Killer's crimes was nothing more than a distraction, a desperate measure to prevent him for giving his secret away because he knew that sooner or later he would finish unmasking him. He was the only one who could do it and it was only a matter of time. If not for the encephalitis, Hannibal would have been jailed many time ago... so the doctor had to get rid of him somehow. Moreover, he must disrupted his credibility for anyone to believe in his accusations and made everybody thought they were the ravings of a madman or the lies of a manipulative psychopath trying to incriminate an innocent man.

Hannibal Lecter had snatched everything from him: his freedom, his credibility, the few people he really cared for... he has isolated him completely and he had even endangered his sanity by hiding his encephalitis from him and systematically manipulate his mind during their therapy sessions to provoke him attacks, which coming always accompanied by a convenient lack of memory.

But deeply inside Hannibal's intention wasn't hurt him. He wanted to be his friend. In his twisted, psychopathic way Hannibal Lecter was trying to connect with him because he considered him an equal. Someone special who could understand him and _see_ him as he was, without that person suit he used to face the world.

The Chesapeake Ripper wanted a partner, a friend with whom to share his life. He thought he had found it in Will and therefore he would allow him to enter his world. In fact, he would gladly open the door to let him in. And Will was going to cross that threshold... just to catch him and throw him to the deepest, darkest cell they could find for him and then throw away the key.

Hannibal wanted to feed the monster that lived within him, thinking they could live together in peace and be happy that way. What the doctor seemed to have forgotten it is that you cannot simply control a monster and once it's released, there are always consequences.

Doctor Lecter was about to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

'Will Graham and I have resumed our therapy.'

Bedelia blinked. Her beautiful face showed no more than a slight bewilderment, while she readjusted her position in the chair she occupied in front of Hannibal. The therapist looked at his patient's face and couldn't ignore that infamous twinkle in his eyes: the same that always appeared when he spoke of Will Graham.

'How do you feel about it?' she asked, already knowing the answer. She could read it in his eyes.

'Fine.' Hannibal smiled. 'I am happy Will has decided to work positively in his feelings for me.'

'Instead of trying to kill you.' she said. 'Mr. Graham has tried twice, the last time has been just a week ago. Have you think his recent approach to you could be a ruse? Perhaps to make you let your guard down?'

'I thought at first but now I know it is not what Will really wants.'

'How do you know?'

'Because we have spoken about it. He has opened up to me, we both have done. We talked about our situation.'

'And what is the conclusion?'

'Will is very confused and very angry.' he pursed his lips in disgust. In his face a restrained emotion was showed. 'I cannot blame him. I have hurt him, although it wasn't my intention. His suffering is my fault.'

Bedelia blinked at him. She couldn't believe what she was hearing: true contrition. Repentance. In all their years of therapy, she had never seen anything like that in Hannibal. Ordinarily, her patient had proved himself to be incapable of feeling true remorse and his degree of empathy was below the usual threshold of human beings. It was obvious he suffered an antisocial personality disorder and although he doesn't exactly fit the definition of the manual, he had many of the personality traits associated with psychopathy. The fact that Will Graham had the power to stir feelings in him and cause empathy might seem a priori as something good but she had a feeling it was not at all. It couldn't be possible, when such a miracle came from a man as emotionally broken as her own patient, maybe more: Will Graham suffered from an empathetic disorder, a possible neurosis and he had recently recovered from a virulent encephalitis. Also, he was a strong candidate to a post-traumatic stress syndrome.

He was not even remotely the right person to approach Hannibal. His achievements with her patient were prodigious but at the same time they could be very dangerous... as bring a lit match to a powder keg.

'I think Mr. Graham needs help.' she confessed, honestly. 'But I'm not sure you are the suitable person to offer it to him because of your common past.'

'On the contrary, our common past is the reason why Will and I must do this together. Others couldn't understand the problem like us: we've both been through it, so we can understand and help each other.'

'It could be dangerous.' she warned him. 'You both could end up hurting yourselves.'

'No danger.' dismissed the psychiatrist, with an indifferent gesture.

'It seems that you are determined.'

'Yes, I am. I'm going to help Will. I want to do it. I owe him.'

Bedelia sighed to herself. There was nothing she could do to stop the disaster. Hannibal was headstrong. She could try to lead him on the right path but he would always do what he wanted and at that time he wanted to be on Will Graham's side. He considered him a friend and his loyalty and obsession for him had long exceeded healthy limits.

May God help them because she was sure that nothing good would come out of it all.

 

 

 

Will took his seat and they were both facing each other. It was late afternoon and they were alone in Hannibal's office, as usual. It was his second therapy session. If the first had been dedicated to the complex feelings Will harbored toward the psychiatrist, and the devastating effect it had supposed for him the loss of his goddaughter, Abigail, this new session they decided to tackle another key point that caused the current conflict in their relationship:

'A few weeks ago, when I went to see you to the hospital with Alana, you confessed us you had felt betrayed. Do you want to talk about it?'

'What do you want to know?'

'It is now clear that at that time you were pretending... to earn our trust, I assume. Did you want to look like a victim?'

'That way no one will relate me to what happened next.' he nodded gravely.

Hannibal pursed his lips, making an imperceptible grimace remembering the facts.

'Matthew Brown was an unwelcome surprise, Will.'

'I know. At that time I was furious with you.'

'And still you're, I realize.'

'You have to forgive me for that, doctor. Slowly I'm controlling it. As I said in our last session, I no longer feel desire to kill you: now I found you interesting.'

'I am glad to hearing that. However, I am aware that not all of your behaviour that day was a performance: I want to delve into that feeling of betrayal. Please, tell me about it.'

'There is not so much to say about that: you betrayed me, doctor.' he slightly pursed his lips. 'I gave you my trust blindly. I let you in my house and approach me. I believed you were my friend but you showed me that you had ever been.'

'That is an erroneous perception, Will. I said it in the trial and it was true: you are and will always be my friend.'

'You framed me. You made everyone around me believe I was a murderer psychopath: you snatched all what I had from me... only because you wanted to cover your backs and prevent me from unmasking you.'

Hannibal grimaced, his Slavic features contracted to show his dislike for the subject.

'I never wanted to see you locked up. Despite what you think, I have never betrayed you. And it's not my responsibility what others think about you.' he added. 'Unfortunately, people like Jack Crawford and the FBI had from the beginning very little faith in your innocence. Instead, I never stopped believing in you.'

'Because you knew the truth. And you wasn't the only one who believed in my innocence: Alana also trusted me... until you convinced her otherwise.'

'I don't seem appropriate to treat this issue.' Hannibal said, looking at him scowling. 'My current relationship with Alana...'

'You know what I felt for her because I told you myself. But that didn't stop you sleeping with her, right?' his eyes accused him. Hannibal could feel his disappointment. Will's reproaches were like a slap in his face. 'Is that how you treat your friends, doctor? Is that your definition of loyalty or friendship?'

'You both never have maintained a relationship.' he replied, hurt. 'I didn't break a couple nor took advantage of a friend's girlfriend. We didn't mean to hurt you, Alana willingly came to me: we're both adults and wanted the same thing. Currently, we still want it.'

'I hope you do very well.' he stood up, surprising Hannibal with his quickness. The agent glanced at the watch on his wrist. 'The session is over. I must go back to Wolf Trap. Goodbye, doctor.'

'Will.' Hannibal rose, getting the agent to stop before reaching the door. The young man turned to face him and the psychiatrist simply speak the truth because he didn't want him to go away in that mood. 'Whatever happens, we're still friends. I just want this resentment between you and me disappears.'

'I know.' he paused before adding: 'I want the same.'

And he went out the door. He left the office and Hannibal suddenly felt the room huge and empty around him. Its silence and solitude stuck like a strange weight to his skin, making him feel uncomfortable, frustrated and even a little melancholy.

He was upset with himself and felt guilty for hurting Will. It was never his intention. He just wanted the best for him and didn't understand how he could fail so much in his efforts.

But unfortunately, he had been so... and Will was making him understand.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

She took the dogs to Will's house late in the afternoon, when she knew he would be back from work.

When she got out of the car, Will was sitting on the porch. The agent stood up and approached to the dogs with a broad smile, excited to welcome his canine family. Alana observed at a safe distance while he was buried by a tide of doggy love. Even Applesauce, her own pet, greeted him excitely. Will had always had a special talent for dogs: they love him as much as he loved them.

When the ceremony of licks, caresses and hugs finally concluded, Will noticed her. Alana smiled devoted to peace and although he returned his gesture, it was clear he did it more for politeness than anything else: their friendship hasn't been the same after all what happened a cause of his incarceration.

'How are you?' she asked, curious.

'Fine. And you?'

'Fine.' she looked down at the floor for a moment before looking at him again. 'Hannibal told me you both have retaken therapy.'

'That's right.' he nodded. 'I needed it and I think it's good for us.'

'Are you trying to get close to him?'

'I'm trying to put the things straight. Even the score, you know.'

His smile was enough to alarm her and make her stand in guard:

'Will, this must stop.' she demanded. ' You must promise me you wont try to hurt Hannibal again. He is not responsible for...'

'Is that all you care, that I doesn't hurt your boyfriend?' he let out a slight snort. 'If you've come here just to tell me that, you could have saved you the trip.'

'I came to give you back your dogs.' she replied, irritated by his attitude. 'And Hannibal's not my boyfriend. I needen't give you explanations about my private life. I just need to be sure about...'

'Calm down. I promise you I won't try to kill him again. Hannibal is safe with me. And since that's the only thing holding you here,' he added, standing up, 'You can go now.'

Alana looked at him dumbfounded. She couldn't believe he was treating her with such indifference. That almost verged contempt and Will had never behaved like that, not with her.

'Are you throwing me out?'

'I have things to do and I'm sure you have too. You've got what you wanted from me, so you can leave in peace. Revoir, Alana, have a good trip.'

He got away and the dogs followed him instantly. Only Applesauce stayed behind, sitting obediently by her mistress.

Alana snorted angrily and walked behind the agent to reach him.

'You're being very unfair to me. You are resented my relationship with Hannibal but that doesn't give you the right to treat me this way. We've been friends for years, Will. I supported you while everyone else condemned you...'

'Don't mistake me, Alana.' he stopped and turned to face her. His eyes stared at her angrily and coldness. This wasn't the Will she knew and she was used to. 'I appreciate you supported me. I know you were the one who did it, apart from Beverly Katz and she is dead. That should never happen. I know you're a good person and you have good intentions but you know what they say about hell and good intentions, right? You're sleeping with the Devil.' he warned her and the confidence that was in his eyes and in his words frightened her. 'I hope you can realize it on time and you needen't to get hurt to do so. As for your support... let me remind you that it was temporary. In the end you turned your back on me, like everyone else. You decided to stand with Hannibal rather than trust me. So forgive me if I decide turn my back on you now. Have a good day, Alana.'

He left and this time the psychologist didn't follow him. She stood there in disbelief. The change operated in Will during the last few months had been full and amazing. It sent her a shiver to think of what his friend had become... even more when she thought perhaps this stranger have been there all along, hidden beneath the surface until he was given the opportunity to get out.  
  


 

 

The museum was closed at that hour in the morning. A caretaker had discovered the monstrosity when he began his cleaning shift in the dinosaurs' hall. After knowing the identity of the victim, Jack had shook out Will and Dr. Lecter of bed and the three had moved quickly there.

Now they were in the sealed room, face to face with an atrocious sculpture which mixed dinosaur bones, human limbs and claws and fangs made of steel. They looked at the sculpture in silent. The Tyrannosaur skeleton had been remodeled at the height of the head and claws, these being replaced by the arms and head of Randall Tier, who was watching them right now with his dead predator eyes.

Tier was suspect in the latest wave of murders recently occured in the city, where a bloodthirsty beast had killed and dismembered several people. The evidence pointed to a subject impersonating an animal and presumably he would have made his own costume using, among other materials, the skull and the claws of a cave bear. Just a few days ago they had questioned Randall Tier in that same room referring to the case and now...

'What the hell is this?' Jack asked, showing his anger. He turned to look at Will and Dr. Lecter, who watched the sculpture wordlessly, standing side by side.

'I think the killer has tried to fulfill Randall's wishes.' Will declared. 'Now everyone can see his bestiality, as he wanted.'

'His killer should know him very well.' added Hannibal. 'I would say this is a tribute: our man felt indebted to Randall.'

'In debted? Why?' Jack frowned. Everything was increasingly bizarre.

'That we'll never know.' Will sighed. 'But whoever he was, he has paid his debt. Randall is free now and the Beast will stop killing.'

'I hope so because it will be us who investigate this.' Jack said, looking grimly at the sculpture.

Will and Hannibal said nothing, only they exchanged a look. Jack caught it and he didn't like the complicity he appreciated in their eyes. He looked at them suspiciously.

He didn't want to believe the worst. Both Will and the doctor were being very cryptic. He had suspicion they were hidding something from him. Everyone in that room knew Dr. Lecter had treated Tier as a patient in his youth and Jack bet his salary of a year that the doctor had something to do with his death: it would have been easy for him to approach Tier due to their relationship in the past; certainly he had the strength and skills to kill the boy; and as for the motive... well, he was the Chesapeake Ripper, it isn't like he really need a motive to do what he did.

However, who really he was concerned at the time was Will. Why he has this distant attitude? Why he not seemed unfazed, even when he had called him for such an event? It was as if he already knew what they would find upon arrival at the museum.

'No, it cannot be.' he said himself. 'Will hasn't been involved in this. His mission is to gain Lecter's trust, make him think he's his friend but not kill anyone in the process. Much less killed someone they two together. It is impossible.'

He prayed not to be wrong. It was enough he had messed twice with Will in the past: the first by forcing him to return to fieldwork as an agent of the unit and the second with the whole issue of his unjust imprisonment. If he also has to endure that the agent ended up losing himself on the dark side and turning into a murderer... he didn't want to think about it.

The Ingram Case came to his head unwillingly: Clark Ingram was currently in the hospital in a permanent vegetative state for the rest of his days after Will shot him in the head, trying to prevent the murderer attacked him with a hammer. Just days before his friend had received an official notification from the Internal Affairs' commission of inquiry and he had been exonerated for that. Evidences proved his story. The agents who have investigated his case have found nothing against him.

And suddenly this.

He turned to look at him uneasily. Will was chatting with Dr. Lecter and he didn't notice he was watching them. The two seemed quite comfortable together, very close and in sync. Anyone who saw them would think they were good friends.

Should he start worrying? He wondered if something wuld be happening to his colleague. If he was changing, if perhaps he would have been lost in the thick web of his revenge. He believe in Will and his skills but knowing him he couldn't help feeling a little nervous about it.

A few weeks earlier, while fishing on the ice, Will and he had made a pact to put Hannibal Lecter in jail. They had to unmask him and reveal to the world he was the famous Chasepeake Ripper. And for that Will was going to pretend he was on his side, that he was his friend, as the Ripper wanted. They had to offer a bait for the big fish sting.

Now he watches the others and he wondered if it was them who were going to take the bait instead of Lecter.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Will looked at himself in the mirror for a last time. He was unable to recognize the man he saw on the other side. It was a double created for the occasion, it wasn't him at all.

The subject in question had neatly trimmed dark beard, hair combed, polished black shoes and an Italian light grey silk suit. He had an excellent appearance, he must admit it, but to get it he had been forced to give his wallet a hole more than two hundred dollars. It was not far common place in him... but circumstances demanded it.

Hannibal had invited him to the opera and he had accepted. Not only because he wanted to spend time with the doctor - lately he enjoyed so much Hannibal's company. They see each other every day at work, at therapy or for simply pleasure. He had reached the point of miss the moments he passed without the doctor - and not even because he liked to hear opera occasionally. The real motive was he had to find out: he had to know if what he thought was real or a mere figment of his imagination or a misinterpretation of facts.

Important things had changed over the last week.

For a start, he had sent a murderer to the hospital and he had done it deliberately. He had shot for Carl Ingram's head with satisfaction to finish him but not killing him. No. That man deserved something worse than death. He had hurt so much to those poor women, to their clients... to Peter, who besides being innocent of the crimes that the social worker wanted to charge him, he was a simple soul cruelly tortured in the hands of that monster.

He had done justice to Ingram's victims and he didn't regret it at all.

On the other hand, it was Randall Tier: he had beaten him to death in his own home, with his bare hands... and he had imagined killing Hannibal as he did. Randall had entered his house specifically to assassinate him and Will knew the psychiatrist had sent him in retaliation for Matthew Brown. He knew it the instant the beast entered his house, shattering the window of the living-room like a nightmarish animal.

Randall had ended on Hannibal Lecter's dining table long before being exhibited in the museum. The psychiatrist had been surprised to come home and see the body but he congratulated him for his feat and then all were care and kind attentions. Hannibal washed and healed his aching hands and bloodied knuckles. He bandaged them carefully, looking at him with such pride and devotion. That marked a milestone in the transformation undergone by Will in recent months and also put the score to zero between the two. There was no rancor because they had tried to kill each other. Hannibal was happy and satisfied.

'Stay with me.' the doctor asked him, holding his bandaged hand affectionately.

'Where else I can go?' he had replied, though both knew he could go wherever he wanted and instead he chose to stay there with him.

Later that night, his friend had brought him home and they had said goodbye to each other on the porch. He had thanked the doctor for his help, taking his hands tightly in his. The way Hannibal had looked at him in that moment and the pleasant chill that look had caused in him...

Had he missed something? The doctor's approaches toward him had never been romantic or sexual, he was sure about that. It was more a lonely man who finds another and seeks his contact, to be understood and accepted by him, even loved in order to not feel alone or misfit anymore. That was what they both wanted actually, maybe that's why they fit so well together.

However, it seemed that their relationship had gone beyond without them would notice. It was hard to assimilate and made him feel confused to the point that he desperately needed to know the truth because he needed to know how to handle it. Perhaps even he could benefit of it...

'Beware' he said himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. 'If you play with fire, you'll end up burned.'

He was already burning, he can feel it. Hannibal had begun days ago to talk about the two moving, traveling to Europe, living in the Old Continent together. And during those sessions, while they discuss about how that life could be as they had dinner or sharing a glass of wine, he had become more and more to the idea. It was take root in his mind. He cherish it as the only way out to a world where he only had known suffering. It's not that the world Hannibal offers him was better, it wasn't really... but in that world he could enjoy his freedom. He could be himself, get rid of the heavy burden caused by his empathy disorder, which forced him even against his will to acquire the vision of others rather than his own.

It was tempting. Leave it all behind, burn the boats, challenge Jack. He'd like to see his boss face, if he betrayed him at the last moment and ran away with Hannibal. Do he really owe allegiance to him, after how he had abandoned him in his cell? Jack hadn't hesitated one second to shoot him in Hobbs' house and he had embraced from minute one the version which presented him as a psychopathic and unscrupulous murderer. He had not even tried to believe he was crazy, like any normal person would have done, as Alana had done. She had struggled to save him and prove his innocence until Hannibal intervened with his rigged tests to trick her.

He was hurt by both for turn away and leave him but at least Alana had given it a shot and she hadn't yielded to the first as Jack had done. He had not even given him the benefit of the doubt until he started distrust Hannibal too. And now he wanted to catch him, of course, because he had realized the doctor was a criminal and Jack lived to lock up criminals. In addition, he was especially willing to do so if he could use him as a tool for that. Wasn't that what he had been doing so far? Was it not the reason he got him out of the academy months ago and made him resume field work against his wishes? He had not even bothered by the damage this could cause to his health and psyche until the work began to affect him. And even then the head of unit had only bothered to make him going ahead because he needed his talent to lock up the killers they investigated.

How typical of Jack, give importance just to that which suited him. He actually wasn't a bad man but... sometimes he doesn't see beyond his own benefit. For him, there were few limits to hunt down a murderer.

Will sighed and finally left the house to go on his date. On the way to his car he was replaying the instructions he had given himself to survive that night: he had to be cautious with the actions he carried out with Lecter. There were few things in this world more dangerous than a psychopath and spiteful cannibal. One misstep and his revenge would go to hell. He could end up dead or worse and the psychiatrist would go scot-free, escaping from prison.

No, no way. He would be cunning and cautious. He would find out what he wanted to know and then would do what he likes with that information. Who knows? If he was right and could exploit Hannibal's feelings in his favor, he couldn't just as close as possible to catch him, but perhaps could separate him from Alana and thus rid the psychologist from his clutches.

That would be a fair retribution for having used her deliberatily to hurt him. Honestly, he thought it worth to take the risk.

 

 

 

When he saw him entering the theater, he felt his heart skipped a beat in his chest. The man walking towards him made the heads turn on his way. It was amazing the transformation that a nice suit and a little care in the external appearance could make in a person.

Hannibal enjoyed the evening with Will, exchanging brief conversations with him between acts - the agent was more knowledgeable about Opera than he believed - as they both enjoyed the music of a balanced orchestra and the voice of a talented soprano. For him, also it was an incentive to know he was envied because of his partner's charms.

The subsequent dinner in an elegant bistro down the street was equally wonderful, despite his waiter has taken pains to do his job... just in order to be close to Will and that has not been pleasant at all. The agent didn't mind, of course, the waiter was friendly with him and even made him laugh a couple of times... meanwhile him, sitting across the table, thought about gut the miserable flirt with the steak knife.

Finally, they left the bistro without incident. They went to his house in his car, so that Will could pick up his vehicle to came back to Wolf Trap. It spent quite midnight when his Bentley parked by the pavement, behind Will's car.

'I've really enjoyed tonight.' the agent said, once he turned off the engine.

'Me too. That was the goal.'

'I wouldn't mind repeating it.'

'Whenever you want.'

'But without waiters, they seems to bother you.'

'They don't bother me. It's just that I don't like when they neglect their work to try to seduce a client. It's shameful.'

'I agree. But in this case, it has only been an innocent flirtation. Don't tell me you are jealous, doctor.'

'Jealous from a smarmy waiter who beg the attention of a customer? I'm a grown man, Will. That would be ridiculous.'

His partner smiled, amused.

'The truth is that it has been flattering.' he admitted. 'That kind of things hardly happen to me.'

'You hardly dress to the nines and wear an Italian silk suit.'

'Touché.'

'They were goo-goo eyed with you. In the Opera too.' he turned to face him and he couldn't help speaking his mind. 'Your beauty is dazzling, Will.'

'Thank you.'

The agent looked away, no doubt overwhelmed by the compliment. It got quiet between them.

'If this were an official date.' spoke Hannibal, after a moment. 'I guess this would be the moment I'd kiss you.'

Will looked at him. His huge, beautiful blue eyes stared at him curiously.

'Are you going to kiss me, Hannibal?'

Hear him calling his name - and the tone of familiarity he used to do it - sent a shiver of anticipation in the psychiatrist. He wanted to answer the question but he had been suddenly speechless.

He looked away, in a sudden attack of shyness that was not at all usual for him. It was Will often the cause of these strange behaviours. A moment later, his friend's hand gently took his chin. He thought he would want to force him to look at him, so he wasn't prepared when the agent kissed him right on the lips.

Will's mouth was soft, warm. He tasted faintly of whiskey and the exquisite dinner they had have. His partner kissing an intimate, slow way... almost premeditated, he'd say. When he tried to pull away, Hannibal wouldn't allow it. He wasn't willing to let go what pleased him so much. He put one hand behind Will's neck to draw him towards him, preventing the younger go and claiming for more presence of his tongue into his mouth.

Will pleased him. It was like tasting the best Chianti. His partner's taste was addictive, he could kiss him for hours without getting tired. In fact, he had fantasized about doing it on many occasions: during their sessions, when they had shared dinner... sometimes he had imagined himself kissing him by surprise, just to see his reaction. Sometimes it was a passionate kiss, sometimes a tender one... he would have smothed him with kisses after what happened with Randall Tier. When he felt his hands in his, he would have kissed him over and over again if Will had allowed him. Perhaps then his friend wouldn't have objected, just like now...

Suddenly, the kiss was over. Hannibal didn't know what had happened at first. He looked confused at his partner and saw he seemed embarrassed, ashamed.

'I'm sorry.' Will apologized. 'I'm so sorry, we shouldn't have done this...'

Hannibal was dumbfounded.

'Why? What is the problem?'

'We are colleagues and the FBI has a very strict policy in this respect. Jack would kill us both if he knew. And besides, you...'

'Don't tell me you are going to use Jack Crawford as an excuse?' he asked, annoyed.

Will confronted him with an irritated look.

'It's not an excuse. And before you interrupted me, I was going to add that you are in a relationship with Alana. Or have you forgotten her?'

The psychiatrist took a few seconds to answer:

'No, I don't.'

'Look,' the agent grimaced, 'I don't intend to stand in the way of a couple. And I don't want to be second-best, so... I think the best we can do is leave things as they are and I'd better go home. Good night, Hannibal.'

'Will...'

'Thanks for the evening.' he said goodbye, having already got out of the car without the doctor could help it.

Hannibal got out off the vehicle but by then Will had got into his car and he was starting the engine. The psychiatrist soon could see him leave, disappearing in the night. He just stood there, stunned and confused, like a child who suddenly wake up from a beautiful dream just when he thought it was real.

He sighed, realizing Will was right. He wasn't feel intimidated by Jack Crawford but Alana was another matter. Even if their relationship was more like friend with benefits, he likes her and didn't intend to hurt her. If he left her for Will, how would she take it? And would Will accept to be his partner?

He must think about it. It was an issue that could become difficult, if it wasn't properly handle. Maybe the sensible thing was he let it be for now and go to sleep. There was no point in waste a good night of sleep mulling over it, wasn't it?


	5. Chapter 5

Margot parked her car at the entrance of Will's house. She turned off the engine and lights and got out of the vehicle, carrying with her the bottle of Scotch she had brought as a gift.

She had called Will that afternoon and now she was visiting him to have one of their talks. They had met off doctor Lecter's office last week and the affinity between them had come instantly. Margot felt comfortable with him. He aroused her curiosity and she felt they had many things in common, despite their obvious differences.

Maybe he could help her with her problem.

She rang the doorbell and was received by the dogs barking. She smiled. Those dogs could be quite affectionate and she had always loved animals, especially dogs and horses. When Will opened the door, seconds later, her smile still lingered and she raised the bottle in a welcoming gesture.

'Can I come in?'

'That's why you're here.'

The agent stepped through the entrance and she walked into the house. She put the bottle in Will's hands wordlessly and turned to greet the dogs, while her host was serving the drinks for they both.

'This is your second visit in two weeks.' Will noticed, returning to her side to give her her glass. They sat in the armchairs by the window and the young man put the bottle on a table nearby. 'What you find so interesting about me?' he asked wryly.

'Well, I think it's the doggy smell.' she joked and Will laughed a little.

'Have you continued to visit Dr. Lecter?' he asked, turning serious after a moment.

'Yes. I know you told me not to do it but...'

'I meant, Margot. The best thing you can do is stop seeing him for your own safety.'

'But you keep on coming to your therapy with him.' she leaned forward to look at him curiously. 'I wonder why.'

'Lecter and I have an agreement and so must be.' Will said. She leaned back in her chair, knowing he wouldn't give her more information about the matter.

'Is he really so dangerous? Dr. Lecter?

'More than you can imagine. He loves to push his patients to the limit. You should leave him before you'll end up doing something which will destroy your life.' She stared at him. She had the uncomfortable feeling he knew what he was talking about. Will put his glass aside and reached into his pocket to pull out a card and he handed it to her. 'Dr. Bloom is a qualified professional. She can help you.'

'Do you think so?' she looked skeptical at the card, a second before turning to look at him. 'And how will I explain to my brother this sudden change? He himself chose Dr. Lecter for me. He pays his fees each month and if I change my therapist, he will want to know why. Believe me, he loves to know everything. He is a control freak.'

'I imagine.' he grimaced. 'For as you speak of him, it is clear that your brother is a sadist and sadists love control.'

She sighed to himself and remained silent. Will couldn't get an idea of how far he was right about Mason. She was barely mentioned him her brother in their previous encounters. She rarely spoke to others about Mason because she preferred to banish him from her life and thought as much as possible... it was enough torture for her to have to depend on him for her livelihood, thanks to his father's will. And know she could never escape his clutches because that bastard wouldn't let her go. He never would let her go.

'Alana can help you to stay away from your brother.' said Will, drawing her attention. 'You're not the first to come to her being in an abusive situation.'

She pursed her lips.

'I appreciate the gesture but neither you nor your friend know my brother. Nothing can save me from him: he has money, influence, thugs...'

'If you want, I could handle that.'

She looked at him in amazement.

'Are you offering to kill my brother?'

'I'm a FBI agent, Margot, I cannot offer myself to kill anybody. But I know how to make Mason leave you alone.'

'If you are thinking about threaten or beat him up or something like that, I warn you It won't work. He has bodyguards. And as soon as he was recovered, he would go after you and you don't know what he's capable of...'

'Don't worry, I won't do anything like that. It wouldn't help.' he leaned and stared at her, his blue eyes fixed on her to the point of making her hold her breath. There was something dark in that eyes. 'If we are going to solve this issue, we will solve it completely.'

Margot couldn't speak for a moment. Many ideas were going through her mind but the main thing was that maybe Will was really thinking about kill his brother... and that didn't bother her at all. She had lived all her life under the abuses of both her father and Mason, especially since her mother died because then they only had her to get back at. Mason especially. Her brother took every possible opportunity to torment her.

A small part of her still loved him, he was his brother. She hadn't meant to hate him but she couldn't help it. Although, she should be allowed to do so, as Dr. Lecter said: that was something that the psychiatrist and she agreed with.

She had gone there seeking Will's help but not that way. However...

'What exactly did you have in mind?' she asked, attracted by the idea.

The agent gave her a half smile. The corners of his lips barely twitched but the intent in his eyes was clear:

'Just leave it to me.'

 

 

 

He was sitting at the table in an elegant restaurant, waiting for Alana. The psychologist had bought his dinner and he had spent all the afternoon nervous about the event.

He had been about to not attend. Among those walls decorated with exquisite taste, with its distinctive European flair, insecurity has returned to attack him. It was the first time that happened to him in decades.

He was facing with a dilemma. Should he go ahead with his relationship with Alana? Should he end it that night?

Will was the cause of that hesitation, of course. The agent and his kiss - that hot and sweet kiss he couldn't stop thinking about, even though it had already been three days - and his excuses for not being with him, excuses which could be easily disassembled. They weren't an obstacle to them be together and they both knew it.

He found stimulating the idea of a romance with Will. It was enticing. It aroused his senses and imagination. He wondered how it would be and his mind was filled with images of they two: afternoon walks, nights in the city, coming back home from work together. They could cook, travel, kill... and hold hands while they walking down the street. Kissing on the front door to say goodbye. Share their days and their nights...

A warm naked emotion ran through his body at the thought. It moved him with its intensity. He was happy imagining those moments. He would be happy if they just abandon everything and move to Europe, to Florence, his favorite city in the world. He will enjoy showing Florence to Will and he has no doubt his partner also would enjoy it being in his company.

They could be a family. They could have it all...

Suddenly, a murmur near the door distracted him. The reserved was not far away from the front door and he could see the waiter walked toward him, followed by a dazzling Alana.

Wearing a white neckline crossed dress, the psychologist was a vision of absolute beauty. Hannibal could count on the fingers of one hand the women of similar beauty he had known throughout his life and like them, Alana was much more than a pretty face: she also possessed a healthy intelligence, loyalty, courage and a heart that knew the parameters of kindness and compassion.

He had many reasons to appreciate and want to be with her. He felt a pang in the heart as he watched her approach to their table.

Suddenly, all seemed to be clear to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Mason was sitting in the waiting room. It was the second time he was there within a month. The room was as depressing as he remembered, with its dark walls and its comfortable but dull seatin. A standard waiting room.

'Everything here invites mental illness.' he thought, making a sneer. 'I guess it's the right thing for a psychiatrist's office.'

The door opened and Mason smiled at his host when this abruptly stopped in the doorway to see him. The surprise was reflected in the doctor's face, usually impassive.

'Mr. Verger. I did not expect you.'

'How are you doing, Doctor?'

'Fine, thanks. Precisely I've just finished my day and I was coming back home.'

'I wont take up much of your time.' he covered the short distance that separated them before the other man could stop him and crossed the doorway without bothering to ask for permission. He could see the annoyance and discomfort in the psychiatrist's eyes and that amused him. 'I would like to have a word with you about my sister.'

'I'm afraid I cannot talk you about her case.' the doctor closed the door and walked toward the center of the room to stand up to him. They face each other wordlessly. 'You know that everything Margot tells me is confidential.'

'Of course. It was her who told me about it. Honestly, doctor, I am surprised.'

'Why?' he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

'Margot wants to change therapist. She has chosen one called Dr. Bloom, do you know her?'

'She's a colleague.' he nodded. 'An experienced and very competent professional. No doubt your sister has managed to choose well, though I don't understand why. Was she given you any reason for such a sudden change?'

'It seems that your methods don't satisfy her entirely.'

Hannibal remained silent, a slight smile on his lips. Spying on his brown eyes – they had that unique red glow, like the little eyes of a rat - Mason was aware of the moment the doctor turned cautious. It was clear then that everything he had been told was true. Not that he doubted it, when Margot herself had confirmed to him, but he wanted to check. That was why he was there... and now he knew it.

'I can assure you that my methods are as valid as any therapist's. I cannot oppose your sister's decision, though it amazes and saddens me: Margot had made remarkable progress in recent weeks.'

'I'm sure of that.' Mason smiled, a second before shrugging his shoulders jovially. 'Finally, what can we do? But now Dr. Bloom has your approval... and as I have promised you not to take up much of your time... I guess that's where we are headed. It's a pity, Dr. Lecter, I was delighted to meet you. Now I'm afraid we must say goodbye each other.' he held out his hand. The doctor took as long as possible to hold it without seeming rude.

'Goodbye, Mr. Verger.'

'Goodbye, doctor.'

He didn't see the taser coming. Mason applied a heavy discharge in the doctor's neck with a deft hand movement, before even break the grip that united them. Hannibal's hand clung like a claw to his, while the good doctor fell stunned to the ground.

Mason released him and returned the taser to his pocket with indifference. He watched the psychiatrist for a few seconds, making sure he isn't going to stand up and therefore he wasn't a thread. Then he pulled his mobile phone from his coat and pressed the button to call his men.

'It's done.' he said, as Carlo's voice answered him on the other side. 'You can go up.'

He hung up. He stood by the doctor until Carlo and the others arrived to take him away.  
  


 

 

Mason's petulant speech was boring everyone.

Inside the converted stables of Verger Farm, the temperature was pleasant compared to the night out. The winter was leaving but still there will be many cold nights like this before the spring comes.

Will looked around. He saw three of Mason's thugs in a corner, pretending that the speech of their leader not bored them to death. He was on the other side, hidden in the dark. Everyone knew his presence there except Hannibal, which was hanging tied by a rope to the thick central beam, stuffed into a straitjacket to prevent any movement, with his bare feet several meters above the ground.

Mason paced up and down in front of him, lecturing him:

'... disappointed with you, Dr. Lecter. You were the best professional recommended, the most competent, apparently. I paid for your services to attend my sister, I have put my trust in you but you have betrayed me. Why?' he stopped and looked at him curiously.

Hannibal stared back. Will couldn't help a smile to the serene, amused expression on the psychiatrist's face. He knew Hannibal could not stand Mason – no one, sane or insane, could do - but he listened him as an condescending adult would hear the absurd diatribe of a child... and he had to admit that comparison was not at all misguided.

He had told Mason he should finish Hannibal soon to avoid future reprisals but Verger was as egocentric as sadist. He longed to see the time when his ego would happen bill for it.

'Confidence is a way round, Mason.' Hannibal spoke at that time, drawing Will's attention. 'A clear example of that is your relationship with your sister: you trust Margot but only because you have her dominated. You know you has full control over her life and for that reason the trust between you two is not mutual: a victim cannot trust her abuser... hence Margot tried to kill you the first time.'

'And that was why I sought a psychiatrist for her: my sister needs help, doctor.'

'I agree: Margot need help to get rid of you, if she wants to stay alive.'

'Are you saying I'm going to kill her?'

'We both know you have fantasized often about it. Your sister is the perfect victim for you... and she knows.'

'He cannot be more right.' thought Will.

Mason snorted and the next second he laughed, amused.

'Your arrogance is amazing, doctor, also unnerving. And so you know, you are wrong: when I asked her about it, it was Margot herself who recognized your attempts to influence her to kill me. She told me how you have been encouraging her during these weeks of treatment. What greater gesture of trust between brothers than sincerity?'

'She corroborated that information?'

'Yes.'

'And who gave it to you in the first place?'

Mason smiled triumphantly. Will felt a knot in his stomach, knowing the time has come for his appearance. He saw certain uneasiness on Hannibal's face, mixed with curiosity.

Verger turned around without losing his smile and gave him way with a theatrical gesture.

'Mr. Graham!'

Will emerged from the shadows. Surprise recomposed the psychiatrist's features, as they seeped in weight of bitter disappointment. His presence there had many meanings for Hannibal and none was nice: he knew Will had betrayed him. The agent could see the doubt, the accusation in his eyes... the pain of betrayal.

Finally the doctor tasted his own medicine.

He walked to face him. He stopped and lifted his chin to look into his eyes, noticing as the psychiatrist holding his breath. He smiled and he could almost hear Hannibal's heart quickening. Was it caused by anger, desire, pain? Whatever it was gave him power over him and he liked that sensation: be the puppeteer, not the puppet, for the first time.

'Hello, Dr. Lecter.'

'Hello, Will.'

Mason's looked from one to another. In his eyes there was fun and a predatory curiosity. His mouth smiled wryly.

'I'd let you alone so you could enjoy your privacy but I'm too eager to see how this end.' he pulled the knife from his pocket, opened it, and handed it to his guest. 'Mr. Graham, please, if you don't mind to do the honors...'

The agent placed the sharp blade of the knife against the psychiatrist's jugular. Hannibal looked at him pleadingly and intrigued.

'Is this what you really want?'

'I've dreamed about it.'

'I thought you had already got over it. We have extensively discussed the issue in our sessions, Will.'

'A few therapy sessions can't compensate for the damage, Doctor. What it feels,' he asked, feeling the old rage revival inside again, 'when someone you appreciate so much, someone who has become your best friend and you trust more than anyone in the world, betray you that way? I gave you my mind blindly. I put myself in your hands, doctor. I gave you the best I had and you betrayed me, used me and deceived me.'

Pain flashed in Hannibal's eyes. Comprehension. A flash of empathy. He was not faking.

'I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Will.'

Will slid the blade of the knife... but instead of cutting the psychiatrist's neck, he cut his bonds. Within seconds Hannibal was free with the knife in his hand. What happened next, happened so fast: Will saw Carlo, the head of Mason's thugs, approach him to hit him with his truncheon. He went out to meet the man without fear. He knew he should fight his out of there alive and was prepared for it. The idea of run those men over didn't bother him at all.

He stopped Carlo's hand in the air and used the pad of his own hand to hit the nose of his enemy, so strong that he stunned him and was able to wrest the nightstick and use it to force Carlo to retreat. He deliberately guided him to the stairs and there was the decisive last blow, knocking his opponent downstairs without hesitation.

By then, Hannibal had given himself to the knife and Will saw the body of one of the thugs disappeared over the railing of the platform where they were, which had been built years ago to observe the swine housing and the arena where pigs gathered to feed. The animals had begun to stir and grunting louder, excited at the sight of what they considered their next meal.

Hannibal and he corraled Mason together, like two wolves would encircle a sheepdog. Verger watched them fascinated, surprised... and scared. He probably had never been so scared in his life. He tried to dissuade them with words, appealing to their compassion and their greed. He promised them freedom, surrender... and when that didn't work, he made a desperate attempt to flee. He managed to dodge Hannibal and wanted to push him out of his way to get to the stairs but he managed to hold him and brought his fist merciless against his face, while his partner watched it all from a distance.

He enjoyed punishing Mason. Each blow made him remember the stories that Margot had told him, the scars that she had allowed him to see, her arm in a sling. He could feel her desperation as a victim: the pain, the helplessness, the anger...

'Will.' Hannibal stopped his fist in the air. He did hand down firmly but gently, massaging his wrist in circles with his fingers to reassure him. He managed to get his attention, putting an end to his violent trance. 'That's enough, enough. Now, tell me what do you think we should do with him?'

He turned to look at Mason. Verger was almost unconscious, his face bloodied: he had broken his nose, lower lip and almost certainly one of his cheekbones. His left eye had begun to swell. Will made a weird sound to see his condition, a sort of hiss, between rage and disgust.

'He's a pig. I think we should send him back where him belongs.'

'His relatives certainly will be happy to receive him.' Hannibal smiled and Will couldn't help but smile back.

'I know.'  
  


 

After left Verger farm, the agent and the psychiatrist came back home together.

Will took them both in his car to Baltimore and during the journey none of them said a word. When they finally parked outside Hannibal's house, the doctor sighed to himself: he has spent the last hour and a half meditating on the events and he wasn't happy. He felt a strange uneasiness, a knot in the stomach, feelings he wasn't able to understand at the moment...

'Are you angry?' Will asked, turning to look at him as he turned off the engine.

'No.' he looked away from the windshield to watch him. 'I'm worried about the therapy is not working: you're still fantasizing with the idea to kill me.'

'And I'll keep doing it.' he looked at him with a hurt expression and Will proceeded to explain: 'Don't misunderstand, therapy helps. But we will need more time and effort. You hurt me so bad, Hannibal, and I cannot forget all just like that.'

'I understand.' Hannibal sighed. Although it made him angry, he knew he couldn't expect it was otherwise. His partner was simply slow to forgive and forget. Suddenly, he thought of Margot Verger and he pressed his lips. 'Why did you tell Mason about his sister? She asked you to do it? Or it was your idea, to punish me?'

'Margot told me about your sessions. I knew she wasn't ready to kill her brother and I didn't want her hurt, so I decided to help her. I sent Mason after you because I knew he wasn't good enough for you.'

'You wanted me to kill him.' Will nodded and Hannibal stared at him, now relieved but unable to overlook certain details. 'Are you worried about Margot's welfare? You hardly know each other.'

'I feel identified with her somehow. But don't worry, you have no reason to be jealous.'

'I'm not jealous.'

'Of course you are.' Will stared at him and Hannibal realized it was useless to hide the truth. 'Since we know each other, you have used every means at your disposal to isolate me from those who I had links: Jack, Alana, Abigail... you don't want me to have anyone in my life other than you, so that I cannot leave you, right?'

'Are you going to leave me?'

'No, I don't.'

There was silence. They keep on staring at each other for several seconds. Finally, the psychiatrist opened his mouth to tell his partner what he wanted to say him for days:

'I have left Alana.' Will looked surprised at him. 'I said her I had met someone else but I haven't told her who: that would have upset her.'

'And that wouldn't have been right.'

'No, it wouldn't. I assured her that there hadn't been infidelity... basically, it's true. I asked her for end our relationship and she agreed.'

'Did she take it well?'

'She was sad but she is a grown woman and she will get over it. I wished her well and she did the same.'

'I'm glad you have ended in the best way.'

'Me too. But now you and I must speak about us'

He looked into his partner's eyes and felt as the young man got nervous. Will looked away and began rubbing his hands against the steering wheel in an instinctive gesture.

'Hannibal, even if your relationship with Alana is finished, the FBI policy remains a stumbling block between us...'

'We can get over it and you know it. Will, look at me.' he ordered and the agent obeyed. Hannibal fixed his brown eyes on the blue of his partner. 'We are not children, we cannot keep playing with this. The two agree on what we feel for each other and we have a chance to be together: either we take it now or leave it forever. It's your decision because mine I think I've made it clear.'

'That's undeniable.' Will replied after a moment. He sighed. 'We should take it slow. I'm not accustomed to relationships and is the first time I get involved with a man...'

'Don't worry. We'll take it one step at the time. We can take all the time you need.'

'Thank you.'

'You don't need to mention it.'

Hannibal reached out to stroke Will's hair. He was no longer restraint himself to touch it. He realized at that moment his partner had given his consent and they are going to be together and it made him smile. It was a happy, genuine smile. He watched Will and he saw uncertainty in his eyes but also acceptance. His friend no longer fought against his feelings.

The agent leaned over to kiss him and he greeted him with a soft groan. He had missed his lips, his kisses... taste his flavor while they stealing breath each other. He drew him to him with both hands, eager. He placed a hand on his partner back and the other on his neck, claiming him as the young man got rid of the seatbelt to reach him better.

Passion was a quality in both of them. It has been latent between them for a long time, so that Hannibal wasn't surprised it broke out, although it was in a unexpectedly way: inside a car, like teenagers.

Before he realised it, Will's lips were on his neck, giving him a kind of pleasure which his throat couldn't help but express and he delighted to do so because his partner's reaction was to give him more. The young man's hand made its way down his chest and waist, eliciting a pleased gasp when it covered the erection that had already been there for quite some time, claiming for his attention.

'Is this my fault?' Will asked hoarsely against his ear.

'Absolutely.'

'Poor doctor. I'll have to compensate you for the inconveniences.'

'I'm open to any suggestion.'

Will unbuttoned his pants and unzipped him. He played with him for several and delicious minutes, while his lips never left his. But soon his partner's mouth dropped and Hannibal had to hold on to the seat when he put all his attention on his erection.

Will had no experience and that was evident but the psychiatrist didn't care. He wasn't enjoying that only by the hot wet mouth embracing his skin, nor the exciting sounds coming from his partner's throat, or the pleasant texture of his chestnut curls between his fingers, while his hand guided him in his movements. It was not the fellatio itself, it was the man who was giving it to him: he was so extraordinary, unique, beautiful beyond description. He was the object of his full devotion and get his attentions caused him such a sublime, an absolutely exquisite pleasure...

'Will.' he forced himself to pull him for push him away and whimpered in doing so. 'I'm sorry, I need you to stop.'

'You're so close. Hannibal, I cannot leave you like this.'

'If we carry on, I'll finish embarrasing myself. I don't want you have that memory of our first experience.'

'Don't worry. If that's the reason, then we can explore other options.'

Will smiled at him, a gesture full of promises. The young man kissed him again and moved to straddle him. He tangled a hand in his hair and the other continued stroking him, giving the pleasure his mouth wasn't allowed to give him at that moment. Hannibal in response unbuttoned his pants and began working with him in turn. He had tired to enjoy alone, it was much more pleasant exchange attentions.

Will hips started moving by inertia when the doctor's hand covered both members and stroked them together. The agent was adapted to the pace he imposed on him, as he threw his arms around his neck and gave himself entirely to the pleasure of rubbing against him.

'Hannibal.' he panted, clutching to his shoulders as they come together at the end.

'Will... my precious, remarkable boy.'

He buried his face in his partner's neck. He breathed in his scent, he became drunk from him and made no resistance when the ecstasy suddenly overtook them.

It was a glorious and intense experience.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

He had made a mistake. He had crossed the limits by allowing things became so far.

Hannibal and he has been dating for weeks. They met after work, hiding their relationship in the eyes of all. They were a quiet and mostly stay-at-home couple, chaste except for the oral sex they practiced from time to time: Hannibal had promised to give him all the time he needed and while they were gradually forging the different aspects of their romance. Will couldn't complain. In fact, he was surprised how comfortable and happy he was with everything.

He had definitely put his foot in it.

He was started with a planned vengeance after leaving the hospital – he wanted Hannibal dead. Dead or as least in jail for life. He wanted to see him pay for everything he had done him and not only him – but over time, those desires had become blurred and he has ended up discovering he no longer wanted his enemy's blood, that he was enough to put him behind bars and rid the world of the danger he represented.

Now, however, everything had changed:

In less than three months he had killed three men in cold blood and had left another incapacitated for life. He had seen other deaths unblinking and even had provoked those deaths, as was the case with Mason's thugs. He was also mutilated and built sculptures with corpses and his greatest crime, the worst sin of all... he had fallen in love with the murderer he was chasing.

In that moment he was dressing up to go to dinner at his partner's. It was a ritual they used to run often: the shared wine, bed and table and he was never so happy nor felt so at ease with himself as when he was with his friend. Hannibal made him feel good, understood, valued, wanted. The psychiatrist was a loving, thoughtful and attentive partner. Both enjoyed their moments together. Hannibal wanted they to escape to Europe, he wanted to build a life with him... he wanted him. Nobody had really wanted him in his whole life. Even his father had been distant because he cared more about the bottle and about keep his many works than about his own son. Even Alana and Jack had left him eventually.

Hannibal was all he has, the only tangible and consistent thing in his life and that scared him. However, he couldn't help but see the reality and to accept it: he wanted to be with Hannibal. He wanted to spend his life with him more than anything in the world. He no longer cared about his crimes, his psychopathy or cannibalism. Not even thought about revenge, not like before. He had grown accustomed to his partner and his faults no longer bothered him, he could live perfectly with them.

By Hannibal side he was happy. By Hannibal side he didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't. He needn't to make the effort to fit because he already did, both of them fit like a glove. It was obvious that they were made for each other.

He felt he should go with him. He must be by his side... but then he thought of Abigail and Beverly: he had abandoned them. First he had endangered them, caused their deaths and then left them without obtaining the fair compensation that both deserved. Was he really going to run away with their murderer, just like that? Would he let them down again? He would be a disappointment for them in death as he had been in life.

He took with a slap the keys hanging on a cleat. He walked out the door of his little house in Wolf Trap wordlessly, his face was the face of a man fighting for his soul.

He can't take it anymore. He must end it once and for all.  
  


 

 

'You are very quiet tonight.' noted Hannibal, looking at him in the candlelight from the other side of the table. 'What's on your mind?'

'We need to talk.'

The silence in the room became suddenly thick. Hannibal swallowed his wine, while spying on his partner's stony and ominous face. It was clear that something was wrong.

'What is the problem?'

'Freddie Lounds came this morning to my house.'

'And?'

'I don't know what she was looking but she found the last remnants of Randall in the barn.'

'I thought I was ask you to dispose of them.'

'I was doing it, gradually. But she arrived first and found it. She took pictures. I managed to catch her up when she was leaving.'

'Did you solve the issue?'

'No.'

'Will...'

'I was about to do it,' he stared at him. Hannibal didn't like the expression on his face: it was assumed that doubts had ended long ago, 'Then I thought of Jack.'

'And you feel guilty. You didn't want to betray your mentor.'

'What I felt was impotence: I knew I couldn't kill her because Jack would go after us. He has been suspicious of you and after what happened with Randall, he has been very strange to me.'

'Do you think he has begun to suspect you?'

'I think he is afraid I has switched sides.'

'We're not at war, Will, there are no sides here. What did you do with Freddie Lounds?' he asked, curious and somewhat uneasy about his partner's struggle.

'I convinced her and Jack to fake her death.'

'For what purpose?'

'Cheat on you. And then catch you.'

Hannibal stared at him. He could see the truth in those eyes he loved so much. They were the eyes of a man who had infiltrated his life to betray him and now openly confessed that betrayal. There was a mixture of frustration, anger and guilt in his eyes. Why?

'Do you want to catch me, Will?'

'Since I left the hospital.' he admitted and looked down at the tablecloth. He seemed remorseful. 'Jack and I planned it: he came to me shortly after my release. He felt guilty for having turned his back on me and had begun to believe in my version at last.'

'So you joined forces against me.'

'Just for a while.' Hannibal looked at him and felt the urge to look away. He didn't want to see that apologetically light in his eyes. He was mad at him. He had betrayed him. Why he didn't kill him right there? 'The longer you and I were together, the more I was going away from Jack. I went from wanting to kill you to just want to lock you up and now... all I want is to run away with you. Leave behind this life, Jack... just being the two together. I want the life you offer me, Hannibal, I want it more than anything.'

Traitor. Liar. Judas! Having the nerve to face him after what he had done! After breaking his heart into pieces as he was doing!

But despite all that, there was only one thing which really mattered for him:

'Do you love me, Will?'

'Yes. Just the same way you love me.'

'But you were willing to steal my life from me, my freedom.'

'I don't want that anymore.'

Hannibal tutted, an open gesture of disgust. He turned his head to avoid looking at him, as he struggled to save his pride.

'Love those who betrays you is totally inconvenient.'

'But we cannot control with respect to whom we fall in love, right?'

He turned to face him. There they were again, those big blue eyes. How much danger and duplicity its beauty hid. Now they pricked watching him while they knocked down stone by stone all his walls, the few that were left standing since Will came into his life.

Something troubled him and he stupidly wanted to keep him from that suffering. Will has shattered his life and instead he sought to save him from danger. Ungratefully he has broken his heart and instead of hating him, he loved him more than ever.

'Why have you decided to tell me? You know the consecuences.'

'I know and I accept them. I can no longer stands this lie. I must choose... and I have done: I choose you, Hannibal. What you want to do with me is your decision. For me there is no turning back.'

'You lied to me all this time. You played with me and my feelings.'

'I never lied about what I felt for you: what has happened between us during these weeks, what happened in my car after our visit to Verger farm... it was all real. I wasn't pretending in any of those moments. You can believe me or not but that's the true.'

Hannibal rose from his chair. After a brief hesitation, he covered the distance between them and stood behind Will's chair. He could kill him now. His hand clutched his neck firmly and Will didn't resist. He could drown him if he wanted but he wouldn't. Instead, he leaned his cheek to stick to his partner's in a gesture full of affection and forgiveness.

'Tell me, what's stopping you? What you cannot forgive, Will?'

'Abigail, Beverly... I cannot forget them.'

'You are not responsible for their deaths.'

'I did nothing to save them.'

'You couldn't.'

'Beverly died because of me: if I hadn't recruited her to prove my innocence, she would still be alive now.'

'Didn't you warn her about me? It was not Miss Katz experienced and intelligent enough to recognize the danger?'

'I should have left her alone.'

'Will.' Hannibal kissed his temple, clasping with devotion. 'You worry too much. You've come here to be punished because you feel guilty for having chosen to love the murderer of two people who you cared about and whose death you consider yourself responsible.'

' _I am_ responsible.'

'Come with me. I want to show you something.'

He walked away and didn't wait for Will to follow him because he knew the agent would do. It was not long before he heard the sound of his partner's chair and his steps across the room to follow him to the kitchen.

Hannibal opened the basement door and down the stairs after turning on the light. Will followed him, scared but curious. His brain told him to flee, to run before falling into the trap Hannibal certainly was preparing him as they walked: he've just confessed he had betrayed him and that his intention was to trick him, to put him behind bars and he really believed his friend was going to let it go? He was just pulling him to avenge his offence. Surely he would end up chained in the basement and the doctor would mutilate him and probably also would force him to eat his own flesh for dinner. Because Hannibal was a psychopath, one particularly twisted...

Even so he followed him. He was scared but also calm. Hannibal's reaction to his confession was genuine, the psychiatrist was hurt but at the same time he hadn't attacked him. Only a few reproaches and a few explanations before hug him. His gesture fit more forgiveness than anger or revenge.

Perhaps there was any hope for him of surviving his betrayal. Perhaps Hannibal and he love enough each other to overcome it.

The doctor stopped in front of a large red curtain. It looked like an old theater curtain. Will immediately wondered was behind it and why Hannibal wanted to show him. He looked at the psychiatrist, puzzled.

'You're going to see the last thing Beverly Katz saw, before meeting me. But first, I'm afraid I must ask for your forgiveness.'

'Why?'

'Because I'm having hidden her from you all this time.'

He pulled the curtain. This fell and revealed what was hiding. Will froze at the sight:

Behind the curtain there was a section of the basement decorated like a small room. It was like the cell of a convent: it had a cot, a wardrobe, a dressing table and a desk with a chair.

Sitting at the table, looking at them with surprised, was Abigail Hobbs... alive.  
  


 

 

When the curtain fell and the light flooded her living space, she was a little confused, like a nocturnal creature caught in broad daylight. The curtain was to protect her, according to Hannibal. It was a security measure after what happened with that female cop.

She was practicing his drawing lessons when the curtain fell. She turned in her chair, expecting to see Hannibal would come to pick up the dinner tray – he had left it on the bed for her a few hours earlier - but what she saw left her speechless.

'Will?' she stood up, unable to believe what she was seeing.

'Abigail.'

The agent came almost staggered toward her. At first she wondered if he was injured or drunk but soon turned out it was just the shock. She knew by the way he hugged her, clasping her with excessive force against his chest.

'I cannot believe you're alive.' he stared at her incredulously. 'How did you do it?'

'Hannibal helped me: he said we should fake my death so the FBI would stop looking for me. You had discovered I was my father's decoy and if you told agent Crawford, he...'

'I am sorry. God, I'm sorry, that was not your fault. Your father forced you to cooperate, you just were another victim.'

'Do you really believe it?' she asked hopefully. Hannibal always said it but she still kept her doubts.

'Of course.' he took her hand and his gesture encouraged her to smile, seeing she had his understanding. 'Forgive me for scare you in the cabin, it wasn't my intention. It was the shock of the discovery: I had have it in front of my eyes all the time and I had failed to see it...'

'So aren't you angry with me? Don't you hate me?'

'No! Why would I hate you? You are not responsible for anything, Abigail.'

His smile widened. She followed the urge to hug him, feeling safe in his arms. When they parted, she looked both men expectantly:

'Does this mean that the time has come? Are we going to Europe together?'

'All depends on Will.' Hannibal turned to look at him. 'Tell us, what do you want to do?'

'I want to leave with you. I want to but...'

'I understand.' Abigail observed Will's impotence and as Hannibal reach out his hand to comfort him, trapping his cheek tenderly in his palm and stroking it with his thumb. 'My dear Will... just let me clear all your doubts.'

'What are you planning?' asked the young man, a little bit of insecurity in his voice.

Hannibal smiled, approaching a couple of steps to him.

'Trust me. Leave everything in my hands.'

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this journey had reached its end, my dear readers. I want to thank you all for pay attention to my story, send me your comments or include this fic among your bookmarks. Now, I must say goodbye to all of you for I don't know how much time: Personal matters claim for my attention and I also want to start my new novel (it's the third and counting ;)  
> Take care, dearies. And please, keep on reading. I hope I could come back soon to bring you more stories. Au Revoir :)!

The kitchen was a mess.

The first thing Jack Crawford and his team saw when they entered the room were the tables removed, pans and cooking utensils scattered everywhere, food on the floor and the refrigerator open. There was no doubt that a virulent fight had taken place between those walls.

Will had called his boss just half an hour before. He had told him he had found evidences and they could have Hannibal behind bars that night. The last thing the head of the unit has heard, before the communication abruptly went dead, was a powerful blow and the cry of his subordinate when he was attacked. He immediately used the GPS on his phone to locate Will and found he was calling him from inside Lecter's house.

He didn't think twice. He called for backups while driving frantically on his way to the doctor's home.

Now they were all there. Jack leaded the group, gun in hand, followed by several armed agents wearing bulletproof vests. Some of them had already been distributed throughout the house to inspect it and judging by the cries of Clear! which could be heard in the distance, still they hadn't found anything. Inside the house was a heavy, stony silence. Jack feared Hannibal had escaped, leaving Will behind, who knows in what conditions.

They found the pantry's door open and a trickle of blood coming from it. Jack and his men approached it cautious, fearing the worst.

Hannibal Lecter was sat on the floor, his back and head leaning against the shelves of the pantry. He had a bloody knife in his hand and on his lap rested Will: the blood was his, came from his stomach open. The psychiatrist had disemboweled him and now he held him in his arms, as if they were a macabre representation of Michelangelo's La Pieta. The appearance of both was the two men who were come to blows.

'You motherfucker.' Jack muttered incredulously, feeling anger arise while he pointing to the psychiatrist with his gun. He wanted to shoot him right there. His finger was tempted to pull the trigger but there were too many witnesses.

'Hello, Jack.' Lecter greeted him impassively. 'Forgive me for recieve you and your men in such a state. I'm afraid Will and I have had a little disagreement: your young ally has missed his way but now he's where he should be.'

'And soon you will be too.' Jack snapped angrily. He turned his head to call his men. 'He's here! Someone call an ambulance!' he looked at the doctor angrily. 'Take Will away from that monster.'

Two men came to disarm Lecter and proceeded to arrest him, while two others drew Will carefully off of the pantry. Hannibal was transferred to the FBI headquarters by a large group of agents, who didn't separate from his side until they left him locked up safely in his cell. While, in the house, Jack and some agents take care of Will, trying to keep him alive while the ambulance arriving.

'You caught him' told Jack to the agent, pressing the wound with his jacket to stop the bleeding. 'You did it, Will, you've hunted Lecter down and he will spend the rest of his days in prison. This time he cannot escape. Hold on. You have to stay alive, do you hear me? You have to stay alive to see your work finished.'

'Jack....' the young man squeezed his hand, looking at him with glazed eyes.

'We've caught him, Will, you did it.'

'Yes, I did.'

The young man smiled, satisfied, with the terse smile of a man who knows he has won the game.  
  


 

 

Three years had passed. Since the news of the heinous crimes of Hannibal the Cannibal came to light and thrilling through world, Chiyoh had been waiting for that moment.

Three years ago, she had received in Lecter's castle a young woman named Abigail, who was the adopted daughter of his employer. The girl arrived with a big backpack on his back, a dyed blond hair and a fake identity. Knowing it was Hannibal's will, she took care of her and instructed her in the Lithuanian language until the girl was ready to move to the university, something the teenager did for the express intention of her and his second father.

Will Graham, Hannibal's nakama, had come several months after Abigail. He came sailing in a sailboat with a pack of seven dogs. Her first and only impression of him was that he was a very strange man: mysterious, introverted... beautiful as the day is long. And he was dangerous, no doubt. It wasn't a surprise he had won Hannibal's heart.

The dogs didn't bother her. She had always preferred animals to humans and soon she and the dogs were inseparable hunting partners. The three of them cohabitated in the castle and the former FBI agent helped her occasionally with her chores, which she appreciated but didn't say. She could cope perfectly alone, she had done for years, but due to the length of Lecter's property two extra hands won't harm. In addition, she was grateful to Will for free her from her commitment: the bullet that his gun had fired months ago to end Grutas' life, saving Abigail from her prisioner's attack in the process, put a long-awaited end to the task Hannibal had entrust her years ago, after he captured the infamous murderer of her sister. Now she was free and once everything was over, when they were back in Lithuania, she was going to take a plane back to Japan and never return. Her years of service to the Lecter family were over.

In those moments, without taking her eyes off the road, she glanced at Will Graham. The young man was driving the car that would take them through a secondary route to the hospital. They had flown together from Lithuania a month earlier to stay in the house of the Atlantic and coordinate their strategy from there: Hannibal and Will had plotted everything from the beginning and they had been finalizing the details of their operation during those days, using as a means of communication the telephone calls the agent did to the hospital, pretending to be his lawyer.

The day of the Great Escape had arrived and she was looking forward to all that ends.

Will took a detour to the right and into the woods. He parked after driving a while, when the road become a dirt track surrounded by trees.

'Wait for us here.' he ordered her and got out of carrying a plastic bag he took from the back seat and whose content she was ignorant of.

Chiyoh watched him go to penetrate through the trees and she knew he and Hannibal would take at least one hour back. She changed his seat to stand behind the wheel, just as they had agreed.

The plan was Will would infiltrate himself as caretaker in the hospital, just at lunchtime, when most of the staff would be in the cafeteria and no one would be surprised to see one of the auxiliary roaming around. He must get to Hannibal, who was in the infirmary: that morning the psychiatrist would have feigned an upset stomach to make them moved him and now he must be strapped to the bed, wearing the mask they never detracted when they put him out his cell to prevent him biting anyone - not that he'd ever done but who want to risk with a psychopath and cannibalistic serial killer? - and he wold be closely guarded by only one nurse.

According to Will, such a slacken in the security of a prisoner like Hannibal would have never happened if Alana Bloom - the new director of the hospital since the downfall of Dr. Chilton – had been on duty... but Alana was holiday in France with her family and they wouldn't return until the next week.

In full Christmas, with the bulk of the workforce on vacation, it was the perfect time for take flight.

Chiyoh waited. And waited. And waited. The minutes passed and when she looked at her watch and saw it had spent more than an hour, she began to get nervous. They didn't have much time. What the hell were doing those two?

She heard a noise behind her and turned, ready to act.

With a sigh of relief she saw Will and Hannibal went out of the trees. It was obvious they had been running through the woods. Both were dressed in civilian clothes, with pants and shirts. Will surely had brought clothes for both in that bag. Mystery solved.

They got in the car and she started the engine wordlessly. Will occupied the passenger side and Hannibal the back seat. The psychiatrist and the agent smiled each other, spying on themselves through the rearview mirror of the car.

'Good afternoon, Chiyoh.' greeted Hannibal, always polite. 'It's a pleasure to see you again.'

She nodded. Not that she could say the same but there was no reason to be rude.

'Will told me what happened to Grutas.' he smiled with satisfaction. 'I'm glad that's finished.'

'Me too.'

'Will you come back home?'

'When it's time.'

He nodded sympathetically. Then, he refocused his attention on Will.

'It is a pity that Abigail couldn't greet us in the apartment.'

'She's on vacation with some friends. But we will see her next week.' he said. 'She is happy in college and perfectly handled alone in Vilnius.'

'Is her Lithuanian as exquisite as yours?'

'Well, we haven't lost our accent yet.'

'It doesn't matter. I love your accent, Will.'

' _Dėkoju_.' thanked the agent and the smile that spread across the psychiatrist's face was radiant.

Chiyoh had never seen such an expression of adoration on his face and she was not sure if she would want to see it again. Frankly, she preferred they focus on their goal: leave the country without being stopped by the police or the FBI.

'I'm so sorry about Jack and Bella.' Hannibal said, after a moment. His face had become serious. Will's face suddenly adopted an expression of disgust. 'The press has treated it as a double suicide. They started talking about Romeo and Juliet.'

'The press is stupid.' growled Will. 'They would do anything to sell more numbers.'

'Now they rest in peace. You saved us all a chase. Die together is what they would have wanted.'

Hannibal reached out to touch his partner's shoulder. Will raised his hand to cover Hannibal's and squeezed it, grateful for his comfort. The two remained so for a long time, in silence.

Chiyoh drove, isolating herself from all that. She didn't know Jack and Bella Crawford but she knew from the news they had died just a few days ago, a cause of a shared overdose of morphine. They had found them cuddled in bed, as if they were sleeping. The wife was terminally ill with cancer, she lived in a haze of drugs and medicines, and the husband had taken a leave of absence to care for her in her last days. No one was aware of what the couple wanted to do... although Will had been dining with them that tragic night.

But that was a detail unknown to the police or the media. It was better that way.

 

 

 

Now they were together. After everything they had been through: the long separation, the resentment, the doubts... finally they were alone and could enjoy each other. Tomorrow they would return home and soon the family would be reunited again.

This time it would last forever.

The kiss ended and Hannibal broke away from his partner only to take his face tenderly in his hands.

'I'm so happy.' he smiled and Will corresponded him instantly.

'Me too.'

The agent regained his hands to guide them to his waist. Hannibal thumb stroked the bare belly of his lover, looking down pleased to see the great scar that adorned it forming a smile.

'It's beautiful.' he said. He raised his eyes to look at him. 'Did it caused you so much problems?'

'No. I only had to spend a few months in the hospital to recover. Now I do normal life.'

'Sorry about the hospital. I'll have to compensate you for the inconvenience.'

'Did you have something in mind?' he asked curiously, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of male coquetry which made the psychiatrist's blood burn.

'Let me show you.'

He picked him up, holding him by the buttocks, and after a short walk he dropped him softly on the bed. He took off Will's pants and his own clothes, while his eyes watched admired the beauty of his partner's body. The agent moved on the bed, showing his lover the best angles of his nakedness: he liked the power it gave him, to know Hannibal wanted him so much he was unable to look away from him. He was fully aware of the feelings he aroused in his lover because he could clearly see them in the sparkle in his eyes, in the blush that colored his cheeks and in the erection growing between his legs.

'Come to me.' he asked, holding out his hand to the doctor.

He didn't need to repeat it. The second Hannibal was upon him, letting his hands and mouth speak for him, smothering him with kisses and caresses, showing him all the worship and affection he felt for him.

'I've missed you.' Hannibal whispered hoarsely against his neck. 'Three years... I just had my Mind Palace to escape from that torture.'

'I hope you have given it a good use.'

'I have. But a copy in my brain doesn't compensate for the lack of the original.'

'You always were a purist.' the agent accused him jokingly. They stared lovingly into his eyes.

'I love you, Will.'

'And a romantic.'

'Will...'

'Kiss me.' he ordered and Hannibal obeyed instantly. When they separated, the young man wrapped both arms around the psychiatrist's neck. 'We could put in practice one of your fantasies tonight.'

'Only one?'

'Don't worry, the night is young.' he smiled. Hannibal looked at him adoringly. 'Tell me, what do you want?'

'I want you. I want you the whole night.'

'You've got me now. Make it worth.'

'I promise.'

Thereafter, he devoted himself entirely to his body. He caressed him with his hands and mouth from head to foot. The young man was breathless when the doctor turned him around and started handing out kisses and caresses on his back, his buttocks and the gap between them, where he also applied his tongue with a special attention.

Will clung to the sheets. He couldn't control the sounds that came from his throat. His body writhed, responding to Hannibal's attentions in the most pleasant way. Its interior was warm and wet. He was unable to stand it but didn't want it to stop.

Hannibal took his time with him, he took pains to please him. He was affectionate and mercyless, always paying attention to his lover's reactions, which indicated him the path to follow. When he finished with his tongue, he used his fingers and almost the entire pot of lubricant he had found in the nightstand hours before, as he changed clothes after took a shower. He had then sought it on purpose because Will had made his intentions clear to him for that night and he knew they was going to need it.

He wanted everything to be perfect their first time after three years of separation. He refused to disappoint his partner.

Hannibal was delating Will slowly, preparing him for what would come next. He struggled to remain calm and under control at the same time, though he didn't know if he could do it because he wasn't exactly immune to Will and the young man's response to his attentions was being decidedly enthusiastic, not at all contained or silent... they both should be thankful that the house was sound proof. Especially for Chiyoh, who slept a few doors away.

Finally, the time came when Will was ready. Hannibal withdrew his fingers and applied a little more of lubricant inside his partner and on himself before entering. He did it slowly, moving carefully as he enjoyed the tightness and moisture of his lover. Will gasped and emitted little moans, while hiding his head between the sheets.

'Am I hurting you?' the psychiatrist asked, leaning over him to speak him to the ear.

'No.' he shook his head and took Hannibal's hand. 'Please, don't stop.'

How refuse when he asked him in that way? The doctor tangled a hand in the young man's hair and turned his head so he could breathe, as he penetrated him using a stronger pace. He carried Will close to the limit and then stopped, wanting to delay and increase the orgasm, so that the experience was more pleasant for both.

The agent not repressed in expressing his pleasure. Hannibal loved each of his sounds, he reveled in provoking them, he enjoyed them and respond to them with the same enthusiasm. It didn't take them long to lose control and they did together. Ecstasy hit them squarely and they had to cling to each other to cope.

After that, Hannibal placed a kiss on the top of his partner's head before departing to lie in bed with him, both trying to catch his breath. After a moment, the agent raised his hand to look for his lover and posed it open on Hannibal's chest in a gesture of possession. The doctor smiled, pleased at his ego, and imitating his partner he put his hand over Will's smooth buttocks and stroked them with affection.

'I love you.' he openly confessed. Then he said it again, just in case the young man hadn't heard him: 'I love you, Will.'

'I love you too.'

The psychiatrist's smile widened. Knowning he was corresponded was the best feeling in the world. He didn't remember ever having felt a similar happiness. He would like Will to repeat it to him every day, just for the pleasure of hearing it but he knew that wasn't a realistic or easy desire to achieve: Will wasn't used to such things, so he would must accustom him.

But now, the important thing was they were together and safe. The world opened before them, full of promises: they had a future and a family and they were to remain happy. Because they have everything. Because they have each other. And from now on, nothing and nobody will separate them

 

**THE END**

 

 

 


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